December 2015

The Hamptons, New York

Worthington Estate

The sun was beginning its descent, casting a warm, golden glow over the sprawling estates that dotted the coastline. Among them, the Worthington Estate stood out, a symbol of old money and prestige. But for Warren Worthington III, the estate was simply a place to rest his head. His true home, his true freedom, was in the skies above.

Warren soared through the air, his large, majestic wings cutting effortlessly through the breeze. Each beat of his wings sent him higher, lifting him above the worries and expectations that came with his family's name. Up here, in the vast expanse of the open sky, he wasn't just Warren Worthington III, heir to the Worthington fortune...he was Angel, a name that felt more fitting with each passing day.

His headphones played the familiar and soulful cover of "Fly Like an Eagle" by Seal, a fitting soundtrack for his flight. The lyrics spoke to him on a level few could understand. Warren didn't just feel like he was flying, he was truly living, soaring beyond the problems of his concerns.

Warren III: WOOOOOOO!

As the music played, Warren let himself drift, the wind carrying him effortlessly. Below, the world seemed so distant, so small. The worries of the human world, corporate meetings, societal expectations, even the turmoil of the growing conflict between humans and mutants faded into the background. Up here, nothing could touch him

He tilted his wings, feeling the air currents change as he began to descend in wide, lazy circles. The Hamptons stretched out beneath him, a patchwork of green lawns, grand estates, and the shimmering ocean beyond. The sight was beautiful, but Warren's eyes were drawn to the horizon, where the sky met the sea in an endless, perfect line.

The lyrics of the song resonated deeply with him, echoing through his mind as he flew.

"I want to fly like an eagle, to the sea..."

Warren couldn't help but smile as he dipped lower, skimming just above the treetops, the tips of his wings brushing the leaves. The sensation was exhilarating, a reminder of the freedom his mutation had granted him. To many, being a mutant was a curse, a reason to be feared or ostracized. But for Warren, it was a gift. A gift that allowed him to experience the world in a way few ever would.

As the song reached its crescendo, Warren climbed higher once more, pushing himself toward the clouds. The air grew cooler, crisper, the world below growing smaller and smaller. Up here, among the birds and the clouds...Warren felt truly alive

With a final, graceful arc, Warren began his descent, angling back toward the Worthington Estate. The music continued to play in his ears, but the lyrics were now a distant hum as he focused on the landing. He touched down lightly on the estate's lawn, his wings folding gracefully behind him as he pulled the headphones from his ears

As he gets in the mansion, he heard voices coming from his father's study a familiar, commanding tone that made Warren pause. The voice belonged to his father, Warren Worthington II, a man of great influence and wealth, and someone who had always been a guiding, if sometimes overbearing, figure in his life. But it was the second voice that made Warren's stomach tighten with unease.

It was Senator Robert Kelly.

Warren's pulse quickened as he moved closer, his enhanced hearing picking up fragments of the conversation. He knew of Senator Kelly, everyone in the mutant community did. The man had made a name for himself by advocating for stricter controls on mutants, arguing that they were a threat to humanity. And now, here he was, in Warren's home, talking to his father.

Warren leaned against the doorframe of the study, remaining out of sight as he listened.

Senator Kelly: We need to think about the future, Warren. The mutant situation is only going to get worse. You've seen what they're capable of. Juggernaut tearing through New York, Magneto's attacks. This isn't just about protecting humanity anymore...it's about ensuring that we have the tools to maintain order.

Warren's heart sank as he realized what they were discussing. Senator Kelly's infamous Sentinel Program a plan to create machines specifically designed to hunt down and neutralize mutants.

His father's voice came next, measured and thoughtful, the tone of a man used to weighing the pros and cons of every decision.

Warren II: I understand your concerns, Robert, but this... this is a drastic measure. I've always believed in peaceful coexistence, finding a way to bridge the gap between humans and mutants.

Senator Kelly: And I respect that, Warren, I do. But we have to be realistic. Not all mutants are like your son...many of them are dangerous, and they don't share your vision of peace. The Sentinels would be a precaution, a way to protect the public while we work towards that coexistence.

Warren felt a surge of anger and frustration. His father had always been a proponent of peace, a man who believed that mutants and humans could live together without fear. But now, with Senator Kelly in his ear, Warren could sense his resolve wavering.

He stepped into the room, his presence immediately drawing the attention of both men.

Warren III: What's going on here?

His father looked up, a mix of surprise and concern in his eyes. Senator Kelly, on the other hand, remained composed, his politician smile never wavering.

Warren II: Warren, I didn't realize you were back. We were just... discussing some concerns Senator Kelly has about the mutant situation.

Warren's eyes narrowed as he looked at the senator

Warren III: Concerns that involve building giant robots to hunt down my kind?!

Senator Kelly's smile faltered for a moment before he recovered, his tone diplomatic.

Senator Kelly: I understand how it sounds, Warren, but this program is about protection. Protection for everyone, including mutants. The Sentinels would only be deployed if there was a threat, if there was no other option.

Warren could hardly believe what he was hearing. The idea of Sentinels, towering machines designed to track and capture mutants, was horrifying to him. He knew the potential for abuse, the way fear could turn something meant for protection into a weapon of oppression...

Queens, New York

L/N Household

The cold December morning settled over Queens, a light dusting of frost clinging to the edges of windows and rooftops. The L/N household was alive with activity, a warm refuge from the chilly air outside. Christmas was just a few weeks away, and the smell of pine filled the living room as Y/N helped set up the decorations with his family. His mom had just returned from her shift at the hospital, and his dad, still in uniform from the NYPD, was trying to untangle the string of Christmas lights.

The radio played softly in the background, a mix of holiday tunes, as Y/N strung up garlands and hung ornaments on the tree. His mind kept wandering back to the events of the past few weeks: the battle with Juggernaut, the chaos, and the teamwork with the X-Men. Yet today, standing in the comfort of his home, it felt worlds away

Y/N's mom looked over from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dish towel as she smiled at him.

Evelyn: Y/N, can you give your dad a hand with those lights? He's been at it for fifteen minutes... and I don't think they're getting untangled anytime soon.

Y/N chuckled, walking over to his dad, who had managed to get himself tangled in the string of lights.

Y/N: Here, let me help you, Dad. How do you manage to do this every year?

Victor: It's a gift, son. A gift. One day, when you have your own kids you'll get through this just like I am.

Y/N chuckles at his father's comment

Y/N: Yeah right...

Y/N carefully untangled the lights, his thoughts briefly flickering back to the Institute. The students had been given a much-needed break after the Juggernaut incident, but he couldn't fully relax. There was always something, whether it was training, missions, or balancing school life. It was nice to take a break, even if only for a little while, and focus on something normal like Christmas decorations.

As he worked, he caught his mom humming a Christmas carol, her voice soft and comforting. It was moments like these that reminded Y/N why he kept going—the simple, quiet moments that made all the chaos of being Spider-Man worth it. This was the part of his life he fought to protect.

After finally untangling the lights, Y/N's dad gave him a pat on the back.

Victor: Thanks, bud. You always know how to get me out of these situations

Later that day...

Rockefeller Center

Later that afternoon, Y/N found himself at the iconic Rockefeller Center, its grand Christmas tree towering above the rink, lights twinkling against the winter sky. The city had donned its holiday spirit, and the ice skating rink was buzzing with energy, laughter, and the sound of blades cutting into the ice.

Y/N stood on the edge of the rink, lacing up his skates while his friends were already gliding around. Gwen was effortlessly twirling near the center, her grace on the ice something to admire, while MJ and Harry laughed, playfully racing each other. Peter wobbled slightly, trying to keep his balance, and Liz was close by, keeping an eye on him with a mix of amusement and concern.

As Y/N tightened his skates, he took a moment to appreciate the scene—his friends, the festive atmosphere, the crisp winter air. It was the kind of day that made everything feel a little lighter, where he could almost forget about the responsibilities that came with the mask.

Liz skated over to him, her cheeks rosy from the cold, and gave him a teasing smile.

Liz: Finally! I thought you were going to sit this one out.

Y/N: Nah, just giving everyone a head start. You know how it is

He stood up, testing his balance on the skates, and stepped onto the ice. Instantly, the familiar glide of skating felt natural beneath his feet, a skill from his younger days that came rushing back. He skated alongside Liz, moving between their friends, and quickly caught up to Peter, who was still struggling.

Y/N: Need a hand there, Pete?

Peter: I think I've got it...kind of.

Gwen twirled by, effortlessly spinning on the ice before skating over to join them.

Gwen: Looks like Y/N's the pro out here.

Y/N: Nah, just had some practice as a kid.

They all shared a laugh, and Y/N felt a sense of calm wash over him. These moments, with his friends, reminded him of the balance he was trying to find between his two worlds. The laughter, the joking, the carefree skating...it was a slice of normalcy that he held onto

MJ skated up to join them, smiling brightly.

MJ: So, what's the plan after this? Hot cocoa? We have to warm up after skating in this cold.

Harry: Definitely. There's a place just a few blocks away.

As they skated together, the day passed in a blur of fun and laughter. Y/N couldn't help but feel grateful for his friends, the people who grounded him when his world felt overwhelming. Whether it was skating in Rockefeller Center or saving the city as Spider-Man, moments like these made everything worthwhile

After their ice-skating session, Y/N, Peter, Gwen, MJ, Liz, and Harry made their way to a cozy little coffee shop just a few blocks from Rockefeller Center. The warmth of the shop was a welcome relief from the cold, and they all settled into a booth near the window, still buzzing from their time on the ice. The smell of fresh pastries and hot cocoa filled the air as they ordered their drinks.

As they sipped on their hot chocolates, the conversation flowed easily. Peter, seated between Y/N and Harry, suddenly spoke up, a mix of excitement and nervousness in his voice.

Peter: So...I did a thing. Bought a camera.

Y/N: A camera? You planning on becoming a big photographer, Pete?

Peter chuckled, shaking his head.

Peter: Not exactly...well kinda. I was thinking... with all the Spider-Man stuff happening around the city, I could try and make some extra cash. You know, sell photos of Spider-Man to the Bugle.

Y/N tensed slightly at the mention of Spider-Man, but kept his cool, giving Peter a playful nudge.

Y/N: So, you're telling me you're gonna be Spider-Man's personal paparazzo now?

Harry: You've been spending too much time thinking about the bug, Pete.

Peter laughed but there was a seriousness behind his eyes that Y/N caught.

Peter: Yeah, well... it's more than just taking pictures for fun. Things have been kind of tight at home with Aunt May, and I thought this could help with the bills. The Bugle's offering good money for pictures of Spider-Man. I figured... why not try to be the one to get the best shots?

Y/N exchanged a look with Harry, both of them realizing how serious Peter was. The idea of Peter becoming the "official" photographer for Spider-Man struck Y/N as ironic, but he understood Peter's motivation. He knew how much Peter cared for Aunt May and how tough things were.

Y/N: That's a smart move, Pete. If anyone's gonna get good shots of Spider-Man, it's you.

Liz: And you're great with tech. You'll probably get amazing shots.

MJ: Plus, you'll get to follow all the action without actually getting into trouble. Just stay out of the line of fire, okay?

Peter grinned at MJ's comment, nodding.

Peter: Yeah, I'll stick to rooftops and special lenses. No close-ups of supervillains, promise

They all laughed, but Y/N couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt. The idea of Peter running around trying to photograph him while also trying to help May with the bills weighed on him. As Spider-Man, he was already taking risks, but now Peter would be getting even closer to the action. Still, he knew Peter wouldn't back down, and maybe... just maybe, he could help his friend stay safe.

As the group continued chatting and enjoying their hot cocoa, Y/N felt a subtle vibration in his pocket. He casually pulled out his phone and glanced down at the screen. His police alert app, something he'd set up with a custom notification system, flashed a headline: 

ALERT: Situation George Washington Bridge. Armored Car Under Attack

Y/N's heart skipped a beat. An armored car being attacked was no small incident, and with the city on edge after recent events, this could get dangerous fast. He quickly shoved his phone back in his pocket and glanced around the table, trying to play it cool.

Y/N: Uh, hey guys... I just remembered I've got this thing I promised to help my dad with. You know...Christmas stuff. Gotta run.

Harry: You're always bailing on us, dude. What's the deal?

Gwen: Yeah, it's like you've got a secret life or something.

Y/N chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck.

Y/N: Nah it's...it's nothing like that, really. I'll catch up with you guys later, alright?

He stood up quickly, giving a wave as he made his way toward the door. His friends called out a few jokes about him being "mysterious" as he left, but Y/N was already focused on getting to the bridge

The moment he was out of sight, he ducked into an alley, his mind racing. He couldn't afford to waste time, lives might be at stake. With a quick glance around to make sure no one was watching, he unzipped his jacket, revealing the Spider-Man suit underneath. In one fluid motion, he pulled down his mask and leaped up to a fire escape, scaling it in seconds.

Y/N: Alright, George Washington Bridge... let's see what kind of mess I'm walking into this time

In a matter of moments, Spider-Man was swinging through the cold December air, the city rushing past beneath him

As Spider-Man swung onto the scene, he immediately spotted the armored car, the driver slumped unconscious behind the wheel. A green, swirling fog filled the air, and in the midst of it stood a man wearing a green suit, a purple cape billowing behind him, and a dome-like helmet that reflected the eerie green light. The villain stood confidently, projecting a massive, spectral snake with wings that seemed to writhe and twist through the air, spreading fear among the nearby crowd.

Y/N narrowed his eyes as he landed on the side of the armored car, crouching low and assessing the situation.

Y/N: Nice trick, bubble brain! I bet the cheesy magician act goes really well with the tourists

Mysterio: You dare call Mysterio a magician?! Fool! Mysterio is no illusionist playing palor tricks! Mysterio is the master of the arcane arts!

Y/N: Seems to me Mysterio is the master of talking about himself in the third person

Mysterio: We shall see...DORMITE!

At the utterance of that word, Y/N felt his body betray him. His limbs grew heavy, his vision blurred, and an overwhelming sense of fatigue washed over him. It was like gravity had increased a hundredfold, dragging him down, making his knees give in.

Just as Mysterio began conjuring a scimitar, ready to strike, Spider-Man forced his hand to move, firing a web at the sword. With a swift yank, the scimitar was ripped from Mysterio's grasp and tossed into the fog.

Mysterio: Your will is strong, Spider-Man. Should you turn your mind to the spiritual, you might one day make a formidable foe. But not today.

With a wave of his hand and another spell, Mysterio summoned a thick, green fog. The fog engulfed the armored truck and, with a flick of his wrist, lifted it effortlessly toward the edge of the George Washington Bridge. The truck floated for a moment before plunging into the Hudson River with a heavy splash

Mysterio: We'll make a believer out of you someday.

Y/N, struggling to shake off the remnants of Mysterio's spell, watched in horror as the truck disappeared into the river. Without a second thought, he leaped off the bridge, diving straight into the icy waters below. The cold shock of the water hit him hard, but it had the effect he needed it snapped him out of the fog that had been clouding his mind.

As the freezing water enveloped him, Y/N's senses sharpened again, and his mind cleared. Kicking hard, he began swimming toward the armored truck, determined to save the driver before it was too late

A couple of minutes later...

Xavier Institute For Gifted Youngsters, Westchester

Med Bay

Y/N sat shivering in the med bay of the Xavier Institute, wrapped in a blanket as Beast, Dr. Hank McCoy, examined him. A thermometer stuck out from his mouth, and his red nose twitched with every impending sneeze. The sneezes had become more frequent since diving into the freezing waters of the Hudson, and Y/N now found himself dealing with the consequence of playing hero in cold weather...he had caught a cold.

Y/N: I should have just... ACHOO! ...stayed on the bridge.

Beast, calm and collected as ever, raised an eyebrow from behind his glasses as he adjusted his instruments.

Hank: Well, considering you saved the driver from certain doom, I'd say the plunge was worth it. However, next time, I recommend not letting this...Mysterio enchant you before jumping into sub-zero waters.

Y/N pulled the blanket tighter around his shoulders, trying to suppress another shiver.

Y/N: Yeah, yeah...next time I'll just bring a heated wetsuit or something. Are we sure this is just a cold, though? I feel like I was hit by a truck.

Beast chuckled softly as he checked the thermometer and scribbled down some notes.

Hank: No need to worry. Your symptoms are nothing more than a typical cold. Some rest, fluids, and proper care, and you'll be back to swinging around the city in no time.

Y/N sneezed again, this time so loudly that a few of the medical instruments rattled

Just then, Kitty Pryde entered the med bay, concern written all over her face. She hesitated at the doorway, taking in the sight of Y/N wrapped up in blankets and looking worse for wear.

Kitty: You look like you got hit by a bus.

Y/N: Close. More like an armored truck... and the Hudson River.

Beast, sensing the moment, stood up and began to pack away his equipment.

Hank: Well, I'll leave you two to your... tête-à-tête. Y/N, remember to stay hydrated. And no web-slinging until you're fully recovered.

With that, Beast gave them both a knowing smile before heading out, leaving Y/N and Kitty alone. Kitty walked over and sat at the edge of the bed, her brow furrowed as she looked at him.

Kitty: You really need to stop playing hero in freezing water. I'm starting to think you have a thing for getting yourself in trouble.

Y/N: Hey, trouble finds me, okay? Part of the job

She smiled softly and reached out to adjust the blanket around his shoulders.

Kitty: Well, you're lucky you didn't freeze solid. How are you feeling?

Y/N: Like a human popsicle. But y'know... I'll survive.

Kitty looked relieved, though she couldn't hide the underlying concern.

Kitty: Next time, you better call for backup. Don't make me come fish you out of the river, too.

Y/N chuckled, but it quickly turned into another sneeze, causing Kitty to laugh softly

After a while, Y/N felt well enough to move around, though his body still ached from his icy dip in the Hudson. Kitty, sensing that he could use some company, offered to show him her room.

Kitty: Come on, you've never seen my room before. It'll give you something to do other than sneezing your brains out.

Y/N grinned, wrapping a blanket around his shoulders as he followed her down the hallways of the mansion. The place always felt like a labyrinth to him, but Kitty navigated it effortlessly.

Y/N: This better not be a trick to get me into another training session or something.

Kitty: No training today, I promise. Just a little tour.

When they finally reached her room, Kitty opened the door and gestured for Y/N to step inside. The room was cozy and personal, filled with posters of bands, books, and photos of her friends and family. On one wall, there was a framed picture of the X-Men team, and on her nightstand sat a small framed photo of her and Y/N, taken after one of their training sessions

Kitty: This is where I hang out when I need to unwind...and sleep. Make yourself comfortable.

Y/N, still wrapped in the blanket from the Med Bay, sank onto the edge of the bed. He glanced up at Kitty, a hint of hesitation in his eyes.

Y/N: You mind if I stay like this?

Without waiting for an answer, Y/N gently eased himself onto the bed and settled his head on Kitty's lap. He let out a content sigh as he felt the warmth and softness of the blanket and the comforting presence of Kitty's touch.

Kitty looked down at him, her fingers lightly brushing through his hair. The gentle gesture was soothing, and she smiled as she watched the tiredness slowly ebb away from his face.

Kitty: Not at all. It's actually nice having you here. You're always swinging around the city with your own villains gallery

Y/N closed his eyes, allowing himself to relax completely for the first time in what felt like ages. The softness of Kitty's lap, combined with the warmth of the room, was like a balm for his wearied soul.

Y/N: Thanks, Kitty. You always know how to make things better.

Kitty's smile widened as she continued to stroke his hair gently. The room was quiet except for the faint hum of the heating and the soft rustle of the blanket.

Kitty: Well, someone has to keep you from working yourself into the ground.

The peaceful silence between them was comforting, filled with an unspoken understanding that went beyond words

Kitty looked down at Y/N, her thoughts a mix of concern and affection. She could feel her heart racing as she gazed at him, his eyes closed and his breathing steady. The urge to lean in and kiss him was strong, but she hesitated, not wanting to catch a cold

She gently brushed a lock of hair from his forehead, her fingers lingering for a moment longer than usual. Her touch was tender, filled with a warmth she hoped would comfort him as much as her words.

Two days later...

Osborn Penthouse, Tudor City

Y/N sat by the fireplace in Harry's luxurious penthouse, trying to soak in as much warmth as he could. Even after two days, the cold from his plunge into the Hudson lingered, causing him to sneeze every now and then. His friends were all around, chatting and laughing, completely unaware of his secret identity or the real reason for his sudden illness.

Liz, sitting beside him, snuggled closer, wrapping her arms around his as they lounged on the couch. She rested her head on his shoulder, a soft smile on her face.

Liz: You still sound pretty congested. Maybe you should've stayed home.

Y/N gave a weak chuckle, trying to play it off.

Y/N: Nah, I'm good. Just need to keep warm, that's all...ACHOO!

The fire crackled in front of them, and Y/N could feel the heat easing his muscles. But despite the coziness of the room, his mind kept drifting. It was getting harder to juggle his responsibilities as Spider-Man and his normal life. Every time he had to leave a social event or come up with another excuse, the guilt weighed heavier on him. Especially now, with his friends so close and yet completely in the dark.

Harry: You sure you're good, man? You've been sneezing non-stop for days.

Y/N waved him off, trying to sound casual.

Y/N: It's just a cold. You know, 'tis the season.

He felt Liz shift slightly beside him, her hand running up and down his arm. Her concern was clear, and it made the whole situation even more complicated. He wanted to be honest, to tell her the truth, but how could he? With everything that had happened recently, with villains like Juggernaut and Mysterio... telling her would put her in danger.

As his thoughts raced, Liz looked up at him, her warm eyes filled with care.

Liz: Well... as long as you're okay.

Y/N smiled down at her, though internally, he was torn. He leaned back into the couch, his body craving the warmth of the fire while his mind wrestled with the weight of his double life

As the evening wore on, the group found themselves enjoying the comfortable luxury of Harry's penthouse. They spent hours playing games, talking, and laughing about everything from school gossip to their favorite movies. The warmth from the fireplace, the cozy setting, and the easy camaraderie among them made it one of those rare, perfect nights.

Y/N, still bundled up with Liz beside him, began to feel his fatigue set in. The medicine he'd been taking for his cold was working, but it also made him a bit drowsy. Glancing around, he could see the same fatigue in his friends. Peter and Gwen were slumped in chairs, whispering about some inside joke, while Harry and MJ were deep into a competitive board game, but their energy was fading fast.

Eventually, Harry yawned and stretched out, glancing around the room with a tired smile.

Harry: You guys want to just crash here? My dad's away for the week, so no one's gonna care if we do.

Everyone seemed to agree with a chorus of yawns and nods. The penthouse had more than enough space, with extra rooms and couches to accommodate everyone.

Liz: I think that's a good idea. Plus, Y/N needs more rest.

She gave him a playful nudge, her voice light but filled with concern while Y/N gave her a sheepish smile.

Y/N: Hey, I'm fine, really. But... yeah, maybe I could use a little more sleep.

One by one, they began to settle into different spots. Gwen and MJ claimed a couch near the fire, Peter found a comfortable armchair to curl up in, and Harry disappeared to grab blankets from one of the guest rooms. Liz, of course, stayed close to Y/N, draping a blanket over them both as they snuggled on the couch.

With the soft glow of the fire illuminating the room, and the quiet sounds of their friends getting comfortable, Y/N felt a sense of peace wash over him. It was a rare moment of normalcy in his chaotic life as Spider-Man. For a few hours, at least, he could let his guard down and just be Y/N, surrounded by the people he cared about.

As Liz rested her head on his chest, the weight of his double life felt a little lighter. And for the first time in a while, Y/N drifted into a peaceful sleep, knowing that, for tonight at least, everything was okay

Meanwhile...

Vulture's Warehouse, Brooklyn

The abandoned warehouse in Brooklyn was dimly lit, filled with the sounds of distant city life, but inside, it was silent save for the murmurs of the crew. Herman Schultz stood at the center of the room, looking down at his new gauntlets, a sly grin creeping onto his face. The sleek metal of the vibro-shock gauntlets gleamed under the overhead lights, and the modifications were evident. These weren't the standard tools of destruction he'd used before... these were upgraded, more powerful.

Across the room, Adrian Toomes, the Vulture, stood with his arms crossed, watching Schultz carefully. Behind him were a few members of the crew, including Mason, The Tinkerer, who had engineered the modifications to Schultz's gauntlets. His calculating eyes studied Schultz's every move.

Adrian: Mason made some modifications on the gauntlets. Same ones Gargan used to give Spider-Man a beating, but better. Now...you're gonna test 'em.

Schultz looked down at the gauntlets, his fingers twitching as he felt the surge of power humming through the devices. He could feel the vibrations already, the raw energy pulsating, just waiting to be unleashed. He stepped forward toward the makeshift firing range, which was set up with a series of thick steel walls, concrete barriers, and reinforced targets, designed to withstand serious damage.

Herman: Heh...About time I got an upgrade.

Toomes nodded slightly, a smug smile on his face.

Adrian: Keep the Spider off our backs, Schultz. That's all I care about.

Schultz raised his arms, pointing the gauntlets at one of the reinforced walls. With a simple flick of his wrists, the gauntlets charged up, emitting a high-pitched hum that resonated through the room. The vibrations intensified, building up pressure inside the metal casings, and then

BOOM!

A blast of air, more like a shockwave, exploded from the gauntlets. The force was incredible, sending a deafening rumble through the warehouse. The steel wall in front of Schultz crumpled under the impact, bending inward like tin foil. Concrete shattered into dust, and pieces of debris flew everywhere, crashing against the far side of the warehouse.

Schultz grinned, exhilarated by the raw power he now controlled

From behind him, Mason approached, carrying something draped over his arm.

Mason: I got you a suit. Made it to withstand the vibrations and shockwaves from those gauntlets. And... it's bulletproof, too. Figured you'd need the extra protection.

Mason held up the suit. Red and yellow, with reinforced padding along the arms and chest, designed for maximum durability. The fabric looked tough, engineered to withstand the immense power of the gauntlets, but it was flexible enough to allow for movement

Herman: Nice. Looks like I'm ready for the big leagues

Adrian: You've got the tools, Schultz. Now all you need is a name.

Schultz paused for a moment, the grin never leaving his face as he slipped his arms into the suit. The material fit perfectly, clinging to his body like a second skin. He flexed his arms, feeling the gauntlets settle into place over the sleeves. The sensation of power washed over him again, and he knew exactly what to call himself.

Herman: I am... the Shocker...

The Next Day...

Oscorp Research Facility, Upper East Side

The next day, in the sleek and sterile halls of Oscorp Laboratories on the Upper East Side, an eerie silence settled over the usually bustling research facility. In one of the high-security labs, a figure in a green suit and a purple cape materialized from the shadows. It was Mysterio, his dome-like helmet gleaming in the fluorescent lights as he glided toward his target, a piece of highly advanced technology stored in the lab's central vault.

Mysterio moved with purpose, his cape trailing behind him as he reached the secure door. With a wave of his hand, a shimmering, green arcane symbol appeared, and the door's locking mechanism clicked open without so much as a sound.

Just as Mysterio stepped inside, the lab's alarm system activated. Red lights flashed, and within seconds, security personnel rushed into the lab, weapons drawn. The head guard stepped forward, barking orders.

Guard: Freeze! Hands in the air! Step away from the tech, now!

But Mysterio only chuckled under his helmet, his voice echoing unnaturally through the room.

Mysterio: Fools... you should know better than to confront a master of the mystic arts.

He raised his hands, and with a flash of green light, he uttered the same spell that had nearly taken down Spider-Man days earlier. His voice was deep and commanding as he spoke the incantation.

Mysterio: DORMITE!

The effect was immediate. The security guards began to sway on their feet, their limbs growing heavy, as if weighed down by an unseen force. Their eyes drooped, and within moments, they collapsed to the ground, weak and barely conscious. One by one, they fell, their weapons slipping from their hands as they tried and failed to fight off the overwhelming drowsiness that overtook them.

Mysterio stepped over the fallen guards with a smirk, his cape billowing as he approached the tech, a sleek, metallic device glowing with blue energy. He reached out, his fingers hovering over the object, savoring the moment before seizing it.

Mysterio: Perfect. Just what I needed for my next... performance

As Mysterio reached for the device, tearing a hole in the roof of the lab for his dramatic exit, a familiar voice echoed through the space.

Y/N: Don't mind me! I'm just... shielding myself from the cold. ACHOO!

Mysterio's head snapped toward the sound, his expression hard to read beneath the dome, but clearly annoyed. The swirling green fog around him shimmered ominously as he raised his hand, his voice booming with the same spell.

Mysterio: DORMI-

But Spider-Man was quick to react, swinging away with a burst of webbing just before the incantation could fully take effect.

Y/N: I'm pretty sure that's Gesundheit in another language...

Still recovering from his cold, Y/N's voice sounded a bit more congested than usual, but his quips didn't miss a beat. He flipped through the air, dodging Mysterio's attacks, trying to keep the villain off-balance

Mysterio's voice echoed through the lab again, a sinister laugh accompanying the green fog as he conjured another illusion. This time, a swarm of bat-like creatures emerged from the mist, their glowing eyes and sharp fangs aimed directly at Y/N.

Y/N swung through the air, narrowly avoiding the majority of the creatures, but one managed to bite down on his leg

Y/N: OW! You little...I thought we agreed no biting on the first date!

He shook the bat off, but more of the creatures swarmed around him, their high-pitched screeches making it harder to focus. Despite the congestion in his head, Y/N kept moving, flipping and web-swinging to avoid the worst of the swarm

With a quick move, he shot out webs, creating a wide net that caught the mechanical creatures mid-flight. They wriggled against the webbing, trying to escape, but Y/N gave a sharp tug, slamming them all into a nearby wall.

A crackling sound filled the air as the bats short-circuited on impact, sparks flying from their metal bodies.

Y/N: Pricks... Should've known they were just tin cans with wings

As Y/N stood amidst the swirling green fog, he saw the winged snake from the bridge appear again. Its massive form twisted through the air, but this time, Y/N knew better. He let it pass right through him, knowing it wasn't real.

Y/N: Nice try, fishbowl...but your snake is just smoke and mirrors.

However, just as Y/N felt a small victory, the fog thickened, and multiple figures emerged from it... exact clones of Mysterio, each one solid and moving with purpose. One of them landed a punch, catching Y/N off guard, and then another jabbed him in the ribs. His spider-sense didn't even tingle

Y/N: Great... real clones. How are you doing that?

The clones closed in from all sides, and with the swirling fog distorting everything, more illusions began to appear. Animals, prehistoric creatures and shadowy figures. Y/N's senses were being overwhelmed, his vision playing tricks on him. He was swinging wildly, hitting nothing, while the real threats came from places he couldn't anticipate.

Y/N: I can't keep this up. I have to focus.

Finally, he made a decision. Y/N closed his eyes, blocking out the visual chaos. He forced himself to rely only on his spider-sense, the one thing that always cut through the noise. It took a moment to adjust, but soon the sensations of danger became clear, sharper. He could feel the subtle vibrations in the air as the real Mysterio clones moved toward him

With his eyes still closed, Y/N honed in on the subtle vibrations of movement around him. As his spider-sense sharpened, he began to realize something odd...these clones didn't feel quite right. The danger was real, but it was mechanical, predictable, and repetitive

He ducked under another attack, his enhanced reflexes guiding him as he flipped and dodged. His spider-sense told him exactly where the clones would strike, and he responded instinctively, striking back with more precision now that he knew what he was dealing with.

Y/N: Misty, are you really this unoriginal? First robot bats, now robot clones? It's like fighting bad action figures!

With newfound confidence, Y/N webbed two of the clones mid-swing, yanking them into each other, and they collapsed in a heap of sparking wires. He shot another web at the remaining robots, pulling them into a pile and delivering a powerful kick that sent them crashing into a wall.

Y/N: Guess it's time to take out the puppet master

With the robot clones out of commission, Y/N turned his attention to Mysterio, who stood at the back, watching his plan unravel. The villain's mask-covered face didn't show emotion, but his body language screamed frustration.

Mysterio: You think you've won, Spider-Man? This is just the beginning of the nightmare!

Y/N: Yeah, yeah. Save it for the sequel, Bobblehead!

Without hesitation, Y/N shot a web at Mysterio, determined to end this illusionist's tricks once and for all

Y/N pulled Mysterio toward him with a sharp tug of his web, his enhanced strength sending the villain flying

Y/N: GET OVER HERE!!!

In one swift motion, he delivered a powerful punch directly to Mysterio's dome-like helmet, shattering the glass with a loud crack. Pieces of the helmet splintered off, falling to the ground with a metallic sound

Mysterio stumbled backward, dazed from the impact, his face now exposed, a mix of shock and fury visible in his eyes.

Mysterio: You...insolent...

Y/N: Wow, so that's what you look like under there. Honestly, I expected something more... mystical. Maybe someone like Dr. Strange who actually looks great

Mysterio, visibly rattled, tried to conjure another illusion, but without his helmet and with the damage to his suit, his control over the smoke and projections faltered. The green fog began to dissipate, and the horde of illusions started to disappear .

Y/N: Magic show's over, Mysterio. You should've stuck to birthday parties.

With Mysterio reeling, Y/N webbed him up in one quick motion, wrapping him tight in a cocoon of webs

As Y/N swung through the hole in the roof, landing gracefully on the edge of the building, he paused for a moment, breathing in the crisp New York air. He then lands on a lamppost when he hears a familiar voice call out from the street below.

Peter: Hey, Spider-Man, wait! I just need one picture!

Y/N glanced down, spotting Peter standing on the sidewalk, camera in hand, looking hopeful and a bit out of breath from running to keep up.

Y/N: Oh great... Pete. Of all people.

He considered his options for a split second before deciding to indulge Peter. After all, it wasn't like he could keep running every time his friend showed up. Plus...Peter's

Y/N: One picture, huh? Alright, make it quick. But, uh... try not to get my bad side.

Peter, grinning, quickly raised his camera and snapped a shot of Spider-Man crouched heroically against the city skyline.

Peter: Thanks! You're... doing great work, by the way.

Y/N: You too, buddy.

Without waiting for more conversation, Y/N shot a web toward the next building and swung away, disappearing into the night. Peter watched him go, camera still in hand, unaware that the person behind the mask was standing much closer to him than he could ever imagine